~~If you've ever sewn, you know what I mean by backing out stitches. It's a rare garment that doesn't need a seam straightened of some other minor boo-boo corrected. I don't really remember not being able to sew. When my granddaddy died at 80, he still had a handkerchief I'd hemmed when I was three. For years I made nearly all my clothes even jeans when I was in high school and the only garment I remember that didn't need stitches backed out was my wedding dress. Though tendinitis and arthritis have stopped my sewing, the lessons I learned with needles and thread are still with me. The only mistake is one you don't correct.
~~Writing is much the same. When we start this wonderful endeavor of creating our own worlds, we have the tendency to cling to our first efforts as if we've mined pure gold instead of ore that needs refining. I'm just now seeing my willingness to rewrite and refine extending to everything I write like my opening scene of FRIENDLY FIRE. I've clung to the first line of "Laura Grace, smile!" for three years, but it's gone now. Thanks to input from the wonderful critique I get from N. R. Williams, my buddies at the Forum, my local crit group, and all of you who participated in the Catch Me If You Can blogfest, scene one is new and improved. At least, for now. ; )
~~So here's the 263rd version. ; )
Another cloud of soiled diaper stench drifted over us, but happiness still crinkled my friend Jen’s eyes as she looked around the large fellowship hall and turned to me. “Isn’t it great, Laura Grace? I didn’t expect so many foster kids, but we have enough goodies for an army.”
She was right. The foster care respite party was a big success so far. Who knew so many would come on Mother’s Day weekend? I shoved what was left of my teacakes to the front of the tray so the kids could reach them easily.
Mother’s Day was my personalized brand of torment, but I had I set myself up for it by volunteering to help with the party to give foster parents a bit of a breather. The memory of Tom’s face hovered just out of reach amid the noise and chaos of so many little children. He would have given me permission to miss this job. I shook the sorrow back in its compartment. Time enough next week to mark the first anniversary of his death.
Rosemary joined us at the serving tables. Her voice rose just loud enough to be heard over the racket of nearly fifty kids as they ran and shrieked around us. “Laura Grace, are you going to be okay?” My backup had arrived.
I winced as two kids shoved each other into me. “I taught high school for a reason, Jen. I haven’t a clue how to entertain a herd of toddlers and elementary kids.”
“I know you think that, but you love kids or you wouldn’t have taught for so long,” Jen said. “I’m certain you have ideas about how we can help their foster parents. Giving them a two hour break once a month is a start.”
Noise ricocheted off the block walls. “Yes, they need help, but the rest of you have much more experience with this age group.” My shoulders hunched with the onslaught.
From the stage at the end of the room, a girl stared stoically at the mayhem. Her face was closed, contained. “Who’s the older kid?”
Jen swiveled to look. “Samantha Smith. She’s a challenge. I hoped she would find someone to talk to.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Soft curls framed the big blue eyes. Her fragile beauty reminded me of a former student who had endured years of abuse.
“That’s the challenge. Her foster mom has six kids. Samantha isn’t difficult if she’s allowed to withdraw. Though…” Jen’s lips tightened. “She’s twelve. Acts older.”
“Most of them do at that age. Why is she special?”
Her eyes scanned the room, not looking at the girl or us.
Rosemary said, “Spit it out, Jen.”
She leaned close and lowered her voice. “Her mother was beaten to death by a live-in boyfriend. Samantha saw it all.”
“That’s horrible and not information you should share!” I looked at the girl again.
“I know.” Jen’s voice trembled. “I just worry about her.”
Creases appeared between Rosemary’s brows. “I hope she’s in therapy.”
“Medicaid provides a little, but Samantha needs more. You know the system, Laura Grace.” Jen’s eyes sought mine.
“Yes. After thirty years, the kids’ problems were killing me. Abuse is all too common.” Blinking back tears, I looked at the girl. “Tom and I tried so long and now he’s dead and I don’t even have him anymore.” The old familiar ache seized my heart. “I can’t stand this. I’ve got to go.”
As I reached the door, I heard Rosemary’s voice. “Jen, you knew being here would upset Laura Grace. Why did you badger her into coming?”
This writing makes me think you are drawing from personal experience.
ReplyDeleteThat first line was great. I was immediately there...stench and all. Wonderful job.
ReplyDeleteEdge of Your Seat Romance
Michael, you have me nailed--retired high school teacher who is childless, not by choice. But I still have my "Tom"--Thank God! Large numbers of little kids are not my comfort zone. ; )
ReplyDeleteThanks, Raquel!
ReplyDeleteI like the first paragraph much better now. There's more of a 'hmm, what the heck' and 'I want to keep reading' to it.
ReplyDeleteSecond paragraph, fyi. "brand of torment, but I had I set...' If you're like me, this is where you revised and left an extra word.
I like this start and am predicting that Laura Grace and Samantha find each other to be the comfort that they both need. I would read on!
Marie at the Cheetah
Thanks, Marie! It still needs work, but isn't that the truth about everything we write. And I'm thrilled you've read on. ; )
ReplyDeleteLove that first line about the diaper stench [g] And the rest of it too. But argh, isn't it hard to undo writing? I killed a lot of darlings while editing on Friday - poor Arcturus, I keep knocking off scenes in his pov. And I wrote masses of stuff to take place on the journey but I think I'm going to have to condense it all; the scenes are all different but the themes are the same, and I'm sure I could make it stronger by not having so many little scenes.
ReplyDeleteI can't stand undoing! I don't always undo erroneous stitches in my knitting [g]
Deniz,
ReplyDeleteYou said it! Down with undoing writing! I'm having to rip out how I originally saw the front to make it fit with Laura Grace at the end. I'm not done yet. (groan)
Zan! I'm wrapping up my Japan Help event, but can't find your email address. Let me know. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteMarie at the Cheetah
LOL, ah, I love the "diaper stench" first line! [g]
ReplyDeleteAnd what you say here is so very true:-
"The only mistake is one you don't correct."
Yep, it's very hard work to unpick your stitches - mentally hard, more than anything - but so very worth it in the end. You're on the right track Zan Marie. Keep going, and good luck!
Thanks, Rachel. I'm considering "Mother's Day was my personalized brand of torment" too. That would set up the next two scenes better. We'll see.
ReplyDeletehehe love the stench in the first line. It immediately puts me into the story.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Lynda. I'm still experimenting. You know how editing goes. ; )
ReplyDeleteGreat writing. And I love your sewing analogy. I used to do a lot of sewing and then the writing took over. Now I knit instead.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Charlotte. My sewing limped to a halt on weak wrists. I save them for writing now. ; )
ReplyDeleteI agree with everyone, the diaper stench first line works! :)
ReplyDeleteI also enjoyed your sewing comparison.(even though, aside from a few buttons and pointe shoe ribbons, I have never sewn. But I'm pretty ruthless about ripping my darlings out with my teeth. Sometimes my problem is the opposite, because I can tinker FOREVER. There are always stronger verbs and more layers to fester over, etc. etc. o_0
Happy Tuesday :)
Hugs,
Lola
Lola,
ReplyDeleteLOL! I know what you mean about tinkering forever! ; ) Thanks for the comment.
*raises hand* Here's someone else in the process of killing all her darlings! I haven't seen the earlier versions, but it sounds as though you've come a long way from the comments, well done you :)
ReplyDeleteHugs,
Rach
Thanks, Rachael. It takes forever--at least for me. (hangs head at my slowpokedness) That's a word, isn't it? ; )
ReplyDeleteHeya, Zan Marie! Still trying to send you a book (and chocolate!) for my Spring Forward and Help event, but need an address. Let me know. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteMarie at the Cheetah
Aww, this is great. It looks like all the editing paid off! The one suggestion I have is that you might want to shorten your first sentence. There's something about having a two line long first sentence in the beginning of the story that slows things down. The reader wants to get into it right away. I might suggest
ReplyDelete"Another cloud of soiled diaper stench drifted over us, but happiness still crinkled my friend Jen’s eyes. She looked around the large fellowship hall and finally turned to me." Or something like that...but better. Lol.
<3 Gina
LOL, Gina! Great suggestion! Thanks for reading it.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteMarie! Finally your message made it through my virus-addled brain! I've emailed you now. ; ) Sorry for the delay.
ReplyDeleteHi Zan,
ReplyDeleteDespite being a 'snail' I don't re-write too much. That's not to say I sub the first version, goodness no. But once it's done, it's done -- maybe.
Thanks for sharing your process with us. Every writer has a different way. (ps I think it's great and doens't need anymore *laughs*)
Thanks, Deborah! I still have a few things to try with it, but that will be later.
ReplyDeleteOh, Zan Marie! This is so good. You have really brought it out! I was there!
ReplyDelete